Friday Sneak Peek

Here's a little peek at the manuscript I just sent off to my editor, Power Shift. For those of you following along this is Gabe's story - Gabe the master Dom from Power Struggle:



Reagan stood on Gabe’s deck beneath the moonlight and starlight and the intensity of his gaze, his dark blue eyes as deep and mesmerizing as the night sky. The way he looked at her, the power and compelling strength, made her want to drop to her knees in front of him. Which horrified her.


Clearly Gabe liked to be in control―the tension snapping between them over that had been obvious from the moment they’d met. And she was determined that never again was a man going to tell her what to do, to take over everything, to control her life. Never again was she going to be trapped like that, at someone else’s mercy.

But then―she studied him, the breeze lifting his dark hair just slightly, the moonlight highlighting the silver at his temples, his expression not fierce or forbidding, but rather gentle and warm and intent. And she wanted to laugh at her fears, because this was far from him controlling her life or trapping her. This was one night with one attractive man, which she’d had many times since she’d been divorced. It was her choice to be there, nobody was forcing her, and why did it have to be different than any other time she’d been with a man? Why couldn’t she just enjoy it?

She ignored the faint suspicion inside her that said oh hell yeah, this was different, this man was way different than any other man she’d ever met in her life. This was not the kind of man she should be spending time with, all forceful and overpowering. This was the kind of man she should be staying far, far away from, the kind of man who could be her downfall. She should be with someone like Kevin—kind, gentle...nice. But Kevin didn’t tempt her like Gabe did. And so she focused on her rationale for why she could do this―one night. Hot attraction. That’s all.

“I like it when you laugh,” she said.

His eyes darkened even more. “I don’t laugh very often.”

“I know.”

“You’re saying I’m a bad-tempered son of a bitch.”

She smiled. “If the hardhat fits...”